


Regrets in Retrospect

by acme146



Series: Fading Scars [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, House Elves, Past Racism, Ron Weasley & Rose Weasley - Freeform, SPEW, growing as a person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: Rose needs some help with her homework, and she asks her Dad. But Dad has more to talk about than she's expecting...





	Regrets in Retrospect

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry this is late, I've been a bit busy with my Sherlock/Princess Bride crossover!  
> “We die a little every day and by degrees we’re reborn into different men, older men in the same clothes, with the same scars.”  
> ― Mark Lawrence, King of Thorns

           “Dad, can you help me?”

            Ron was finishing off the icing for a cake. It was Angelina’s birthday, and George had begged him to make it.

            “Can I help you while I ice, Rosie? We’ve got to be ready for the party soon.”

            Rose had a scroll of parchment in one hand and a quill in the other. “I just need a couple of quotes from you.”

            “About what? This isn’t for Harry’s class, is it?”

            “No. It’s for History of Magic. I’m doing a report on S.P.E.W.”

            Ron smiled. “Your mother’s a better person to talk to about that. She is the founder.”

            “I’ve already asked Mum, Dad. I’m not stupid.” Rose unfurled the scroll, which was covered by the same tiny print her mother continued to use. “But it’s not quite finished. There’s more to talk about.”

            Satisfied with the icing, Ron took up a spatula. “Like what, exactly?”

            “Well, what did you do to help?”

            Ron put the spatula down. “What do you mean?”

            “What did you do to help Mum with it?”

            “Honestly, Rosie? I didn’t.”

            “What?”

            “I didn’t help your Mum with S.P.E.W.” Ron winced, remembering the arguments. “I…didn’t see the point of it, honestly.”

            Rose stared at him. “But Dad, you…you knew the way they were treated was wrong, right?”

            Ron swallowed hard. “I knew that people abused their house elves, and I knew that sort of behaviour was wrong. But other than that…no, Rose, I didn’t.”

            Rose didn’t answer him for a moment.

            “Why not?”

            Oh, his daughter had definitely inherited her mother’s talent for asking the hardest questions. And Ron had learned long ago that the wrong answer was better than a lie.

            “Because I honestly didn’t see them as people, Rosie. I really didn’t.”

            Rose sank down in the chair. “I don’t believe it. Not…not _you._ ”

            “I’m sorry, Rosie.”

            “But you—you fight so hard for them now! And Mum said that you tried to save house elves in the Battle!”

            “I did. Rosie, sweet, can I try to explain?”

            “I don’t know if I want you to.” The disappointment in her voice cut Ron to his core.

            “Give me a chance, please?”

            Rose hesitated, but she nodded.

            “Thank you.” Ron thought back to being fourteen and hearing Hermione start going on about house elf rights. He’d been the same age as Rose was now.

            “You know that I was poor growing up, right? Part of the reason for that was that your grandad had some very firm beliefs about Muggle rights, and he raised us with them. I knew that it was utterly barking mad to call someone ‘less’ of a wizard because they weren’t pure. Purity was stupid anyways. So I believed all that, and I considered myself pretty decent, better than the rich people who measured worth by blood.”

            “That is decent.”

            “Feeling morally superior isn’t the best way of trying to be a good person,” Ron replied. “But I did feel…well, sometimes I was ashamed of being poor. I hated that no matter what I did, I had hand-me-downs and old books and…well, I didn’t like eating sometimes, but I made myself eat lots because I didn’t want Mum to worry about me being ill.” He knew that childhood instinct, that need to not be hungry because only really poor people were hungry, was at least part of his struggle with food. Hermione was helping him, but when he felt bad he still thought about reaching for food first.

            “I wanted to be rich,” he continued. “And I wanted what the rich had. And the rich had house elves. I thought they were amazing; they actually enjoyed doing work! That was what they were born to do, and they never worried about money…some days I wanted to _be_ a house elf.”

            “And then your Mum started talking. And she kept making me look at all the parts of their lives I didn’t want to see. She made me start considering the idea that maybe they didn’t really enjoy work. Maybe…maybe they were people too.”

            “I didn’t want to believe it, and I wanted your Mum to be wrong. That’s why I made fun of her for doing it. I wanted to think that your Mum was trying to help people that didn’t need to be saved. I was wrong. So wrong.”

            Ron reached out and took Rose’s hand. “If you want a quote from me, say this. I think that Hermione Granger, apart from being a very intelligent and brave woman, is also a very empathetic woman. She saw people in need of help and she worked out the best way to do that, and she didn’t care what anyone said. She changed my mind, even when I didn’t want her to, and I’m proud that she’s my wife.”

            Rose smiled at him. “I’m glad you changed your mind, Dad.”

            “So am I, Rosie. I’m glad because your mother deserves someone who can change their mind when they’re wrong, and she taught me how to do that.”

            “You did change it, Dad,” Rose said. “You can be proud of that.”

            Ron felt a lump in his throat, at the same time that a unspoken regret—the words he’d always tried to say at Dobby’s grave, _I wish that I’d thought of you differently—_ felt a little lighter. Maybe he’d leave the party early, slip away to the grave.

            “Thank you, sweet. Want to help me ice the cake?”

            “Yes!”

            “Now mind you don’t eat all the icing. You know Auntie Angelina loves it…”

**Author's Note:**

> Now I want to make this very clear. I don't hate Ron, I don't AT ALL. But his attitude towards house elves, and how that changed over the course of the books, is an integral part of his character. I wanted to explore that here.  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
